Disclaimer: I have absolutely no rights
whatsoever. For daydreaming purposes only. XD

Warning: Adult themes.

A/N:
I just can't seem to stop writing about these two now! To tell
you the truth, when I first started searching for Saiyuki fanfic I was shocked
to discover them being paired off. But then it began to make a twisted sense…
However I have to confess that I just don't see Hakkai with any of the other
guys, to my mind he is the undying romantic forever carrying Kanan in his
heart. And as for Goku – I see him as pure, period. Innocent. That is what
makes his devotion to Sanzo so special. So I can't see him with any of the guys
either. Which leaves… the incorrigible epitome of the red-blooded male and the
icy, untouchable enigma. shiver Now that's a pairing that makes perfect
sense! To me, strangely enough, I cannot envision these two with any other than
themselves. Not even with women, and I'm one.XD It seems to me that only
Gojyo can melt that ice, and only Sanzo can quench that fire. The fact that
they're both male is immaterial. Ne?

This
fic takes place at the beginning of the Journey, and takes a look at how the
kappa developed his obsession for the monk.

---

Curiosity killed the cat.

Tonight
was the night. He could barely contain his impatience, and he nearly choked
because of it. Goku had to whack him on the back until he'd dislodged the
spring roll from his windpipe.

"Hah!
Serves you right, you greedy cockroach!" the kid cackled, in reference to
Gojyo's having nipped up the last piece from the platter and popping it into
his mouth.

"Are
you all right, Gojyo?" asked Hakkai.

Gojyo
grunted, and wheezed, glaring daggers at Goku, literally unable yet to cut back
with a retort, but thinking up a good one. He'd already warned the damn kid not
to call him that. They'd only been traveling together for four days, but if
Goku wanted to get nasty, he'd play nasty. Stupid monkey… Yeah. That would do.
That was perfect!

"'Ch."

Gojyo
darted a glance at the source of the irritated sound, momentarily distracted.
The enigmatic leader of their ikkou sat ramrod-straight in his chair, those
incredible amethyst eyes hidden by silky fringes of golden hair, as he dipped
his head to light a cigarette.

Shocking.
That's what High Priest Genjyo Sanzo was. Since that day a month or so ago,
when Gojyo had opened his door and first encountered those hard, cynical eyes
and heard that gravelly, commanding, velvet voice demanding for Cho Gonou, he'd
had an unholy fascination for the mysterious, aloof monk.

The
highest-ranking monk in the world seemed determined to defy his title. Instead
of the customary shaved head, he sported long-layered hair the color of
burnished gold; instead of kind, gentle, wise eyes, he possessed staggering icy
violet eyes that locked their secrets within. Those ancient eyes in that
ageless face were enough to captivate any soul and make of them a helpless,
willing prisoner.

On
his shoulders were draped the holy sutras that he protected; and Gojyo had
already seen the scriptures in action once, and it had awed the hell out of
him. But the priest carried another, more practical – but no less mystical –
weapon: a spirit-ascending gun that he wielded like a skilled, deadly marksman.
Plus, Gojyo had found out in the past days, the high priest could match him
cigarette for cigarette, beer for beer, sake for sake; and shockingly, bluff
for bluff in poker.

He
scared the hell out of Gojyo (and it took a lot to scare him)… and
roused Gojyo's fascination unlike any he'd ever met before. For, as if the
above attributes were not enough, Genjyo Sanzo also possessed the most
arrestingly beautiful face Gojyo had ever seen – on a man or a woman. Rounding
it all off was that delicate pale skin that seemed to be made of moonlight.
Genjyo Sanzo was beyond beautiful. He was divine. And Gojyo, for once, meant
that not flippantly, but reverently.

Gojyo
considered himself all man, a straight guy; but then again he also liked to
think of himself as a connoisseur of beauty, and Genjyo Sanzo certainly took
top prize. He suspected his attraction to this particular man was a
once-in-a-lifetime thing – he was certainly the only male Gojyo had ever been
attracted to – and that in itself carried with it the dangerous potential of
the attraction developing into a fatal obsession.

Gojyo
was startled out of his reverie when the golden head lifted and purple eyes
regarded him with a piercing stare. Gojyo finally turned and clapped Goku on
the side of the head, spitting out his prized comeback. "Bakazaru!"

---

"Well, it's not too bad…" Hakkai
looked around assessingly, giving a pleased nod, noting the four separate,
relatively comfortable-looking beds. The soft-spoken healer was already taking
on the role of general caretaker and peacemaker on their long journey to the
west.

The
first night of their journey, they'd camped out, the second night they'd
stopped at an inn, getting separate rooms. That was when Sanzo had revealed
another flabbergasting sight to Gojyo: a gold credit card, courtesy of the
Sanbutsushin. The third night, last night, was when Gojyo had witnessed the
scriptures in action, when their camp was attacked by demons affected by the
negative energy wave. Tonight was their first time to share a room, all four of
them together, as it was the only one available.

Tonight
Gojyo would finally satisfy his curiosity about what was under those white
robes.

Gojyo
plopped down on his bed, lit a smoke and eyed Sanzo surreptitiously in the cot
across his. Hakkai had assigned them the two beds nearest the window because of
their smoking. The priest gave him a sharp glance, leaned back against the
wall, legs stretched out on the bed, and – another surprise for Gojyo – reached
into his robe and produced a pair of rimless spectacles. The priest put them on
and propped up a newspaper, effectively cutting off Gojyo from his line of
sight.

Gojyo
grinned and shrugged. He linked his arms under his head, crossed his ankles,
and looked around at the other two. Hakkai was just finishing unpacking, while
Goku played with Hakuryu.

"Goku,
bring Hakuryu over here so I can give her something to eat," called
Hakkai.

"Sure!"
answered the monkey happily. He poked his head into Hakkai's bag pack . "Um,
Hakkai… you got anything there for me?"

Here
it comes, Gojyo thought, rolling his eyes. He'd already discovered about the
kid's insatiable appetite. Where did the monkey put it all?

"Harahetta…"
Goku whined.

Hakkai
blinked at Goku. For his part, he was still having trouble believing that the
kid could be hungry again. The newspaper rustled in irritation, and Hakkai
produced something to shut the monkey up, already familiar, at least, with
their leader's short temper.

Goku
munched happily on the dried fruit and nuts that Hakkai had intended to be
Hakuryu's rations for a week. After a while, Goku tossed an almond at Sanzo's
newspaper. The paper was lowered, a blonde eyebrow raised up questioningly.

After an hour or so, everybody was ready to
call it a night. Thankfully, the room also had its own shower and bath, and
they took turns, Gojyo electing to go last. He was sorely disappointed when
Sanzo appeared from the bathroom with wet hair but with the priestly robes
still on. Dammit, didn't monks wear pajamas to bed? Better yet, pajama bottoms
alone… or maybe silk boxers. Phooey. Maybe they were like the Catholic nuns who
always had to wear their habits. Gonou – or Hakkai – had told him stories about
his childhood at the orphanage. Ah hell.

Gojyo
decided that if he wasn't going to get the pleasure of seeing Sanzo's skin,
that perhaps he'd flash his own tan at the monk, and maybe provoke a response
from him – any response, though he'd prefer not to feel the sting of that
infernal harisen that he was quickly getting acquainted with and learning to
detest heartily.

But
when he stepped out of the bathroom, he stumbled; and cursed his luck again,
finding the room in total darkness, the others having gone to sleep. Shrugging
resignedly, he groped his way to his cot… happened to glance up yearningly in
the direction of the priest's bed, and promptly had his breath knocked out of
him.

Sanzo
was sitting opposite him in the lotus position, his blonde head bowed down,
eyes closed, as he meditated. The priestly robe had been undone and was pooled
at his waist in soft folds on his bed. And on top… on top, the monk was wearing
the sexiest undergarment Gojyo had ever seen, black, skintight, defining the
monk's flat abdomen, sleek muscles and delicate collarbones, ending in the turtleneck
that was all that Gojyo had seen prior to now.

Taut,
well-muscled shoulders and arms ended in black arm gloves that extended until
the monk's third fingers. He'd always wondered at those strange gloves Sanzo
was wearing, and now he knew. There was not an ounce of spare flesh anywhere.

And
the whole – golden hair, silken skin the color and texture of fine white
marble, snowy robes and skintight black fabric that contrasted and highlighted
that luminous skin – was illuminated in an eerie, ethereal glow by the
moonshine coming from the window. It seemed that the red chakra on the monk's
forehead glowed.

"What
are you staring at?"

Gojyo
jumped guiltily. "Ah… I was just wondering if you had a spare cigarette. I
ran out," he improvised swiftly.

"'Ch."

Gojyo
was becoming familiar with that irritated noise as well. Sanzo slowly unfolded
his limbs while Gojyo watched shamelessly, forgetting to breathe, mesmerized at
the graceful, lithe way that Sanzo moved. Feral. Feline. Totally
unselfconscious.

Those
purple eyes opened and stared hard into Gojyo's face. Gojyo didn't know what he
was looking for, and kept his face carefully blank. Yes, he did know. Sanzo was
looking for his bald-faced, blatant lie.

Finally,
Sanzo dropped his stare with a bored sniff, reached into a fold of his robes
and tossed a half-empty pack of smokes on Gojyo's bed.

"Keep
it."

Gojyo
felt like a convict who had just been reprieved. He turned and eased himself
down into his cot, never taking his eyes off Sanzo as the priest laid down on
his side, presenting his long, lean back to Gojyo. Gojyo lit a smoke absently,
prayed silently, and cursed inwardly when his prayers went unanswered as Sanzo
reached down to pull the covers up firmly to his chin… leaving Gojyo with only
a golden, moonlit head to stare at and admire and dream about.